The Farm
by LynnBenson
Summary: Olivia has left New York to start a new life, but deep in a case that brings her to Louisiana's worst prison, New York finds her again. E/O in later chapters. All Characters property of Dick Wolf except those that do not appear in L&O:SVU, those are mine.
1. Settling In

I realize this chapter is a little short. The next ones will be longer. Please Read and review. This is my first fanfic

Disclaimer: I am only borrowing the wonderful characters that are part of the lovechild of Dick Wolf's mind, Law and Order SVU.

Olivia sat at the bar sipping her drink. It was her first hurricane and her first time in New Orleans. The city mesmerized her. New York was all about the hustle and bustle but New Orleans was about slowing down and enjoying life. She liked it here. It didn't remind her of him. She had only been here for a few days but she already felt the cities character and love for its people. Detective Kinler walked into Friar Tucks and pulled himself up onto the bar stool next the Olivia.

"So Benson, you think you're gonna like bein' my partner?" he asked.

"I think so." she replied. "I don't really know you yet so I can't give you an honest opinion."

"Bene, Bene, Bene, you are supposed to just say yes." he chuckled.

"Ok," she mumbled as she slurped the last drop out her drink from the bottom the glass, "these are really good. I think I'll have another."

"Here you go bebe," the bartender said as she slid another hurricane down the bar to Olivia.

"Watch out," warned Kinler, "those things are deadly."

THE NEXT MORNING

Olivia stumbled across the living room bumping into boxes looking for that one box where she packed up her medicine cabinet. Her head was pounding and she needed and Advil. How did these people drink like that every night? Today was her first day on the job. She had been by the office yesterday and met her new partner, Detective Kinler, and her new boss, Captain Leveau. Having a woman boss would definitely be a change. The hardest part so far was understanding everyone when they spoke. Their accents are so thick. Since she is fluent in French, she was able to catch some of the mangled French words that people threw into conversation.

Finally she discovered the bottle of Advil and a few minutes later she found the coffee maker. The smell of coffee flooded the shotgun house. While she was filing two thermoses with coffee she heard a knock at the door. Detective Kinler was sitting on the porch swing when she opened the front door and stepped out with her coffee.

"Here ya go," she said handing him a thermos, "I made a pot of coffee."

"Well thanks Bene!" he said with a bog grin on his face. Kinler was about 6'2" tall, medium build, with dark hair. He had piercing baby blue eyes and a ridiculously goofy grin that caused Olivia to giggle when her smiled at her.

"Why do you call me Bene? Is that a southern thing or something?"

"Nah, its just a nickname. I mean, if you don't like it I can call you something else like Olivia, Liv..."

She cut him off. "No, no, its fine. I was just curious. Let's get to work."

The precinct that she was assigned to was on Magazine street about fifteen blocks away. She really liked the neighborhood. Maybe it wouldn't have as many creep as New York. She was just settling in when Kinler walked in.

"Hey Bene! We caught a case."

"Alright. Let's go," she said.

"Do you have an overnight bag packed?"

"No. Why?" she said in a very confused tone.

"Well, the case we caught is out of our district. We are being pulled to lend a hand as a favor to the governor since our crime lab is already handling the evidence. There was an incident at the Farm. Some inmate got the jump on a guard or something. I don't know all the details."

"The Farm?" she asked, still confused. "Where is the Farm?"

"Oh. That's what we call Angola prison. It's about three hours north of here. Com'on. We will stop by your house and you can grab a bag. I have a feelin' we might be there for a few."


	2. Arriving to the Farm

Chapter 2

"So...why did you leave New York?" Kinler questioned.

Olivia stared out the passenger side window and sighed. "I just needed a change. I had been in the same unit for 12 years. We lost one of our guys. It was pretty rough. I just needed a change."

"Oh. Wow. I'm sorry. I had no idea. I thought you were gonna say sometin' like the cost of livin' or the cold weather. We lost one of our guys not too long ago. It was tough but we've managed. I guess, what I mean is, I kinda know how you feel and...I am sorry you had to go through that," he said stumbling over his words because of the foot he had just stuck his mouth.

"Thanks," Olivia responded as she gave a slight smile and a gentle pat to his forearm. The physical contact surprised him and he tensed up a bit. He gave a nod in response and they both rode in silence the rest of the trip.

The car pulled up to the gates of the prison. There was a guard shack next to the gate that was flanked on either side by a fence that went as far as the eye could see. They drove down one of the prison roads for a few minutes before reaching the D block. Olivia was fascinated by the prison. There were prisoners everywhere working, no handcuffs, with tools that could easily become deadly weapons. It was like stepping back into a antebellum plantation. Guards rode on horseback and dogs stayed alert, ready for the moment that an inmate would decide it was a good idea to run for freedom. It was like a time machine.

They walked into the main office of the block and were greeted by the warden. He gave a quick rundown to the detectives about their case and had a guard show them to the cell where the incident occurred. "Where's the body?" Olivia asked.

"He was rushed to the hospital in an effort to save his life, Ma'am." the guard said.

"The warden needs us to figure out which one of the inmates actually stabbed him, if at all possible." Kinler said to Olivia.

"Well," Olivia said, "the blood spatter suggested that whoever was standing on the right is the stabber."

"Damn, they told me you were good but they didn't tell me you were that quick."

"I have seen a lot of knife fights in New York. After so many, it comes to you like a sixth sense. Sad but true."

"What next?" Kinler questioned.

"I need to see the clothes of all the people that were in the room when it happened." Olivia directed at the guard. He nodded and went off to retrieve them.

They began examining the scene. After they had overall photographs and had collected the few items left from the struggle, Olivia crouched down and looked at the bloody shoe prints puzzled. "What's wrong? What do you see?" Kinler asked.

"Do all of the inmates wear athletic shoes?"

"Yes."

"And all of the guards wear boots?"

"Yes."

"Well this set of boot prints doesn't line to where the other guard says he was during the attack. Also, there are no prints from an inmate that line up with the spatter from the attacker."

"Oh shit," Kinler exhaled, "the guard did it."

"It's looking that way."

"Man, I don't want to call in the feds. They just take all of your work and don't give you any of the credit for it."

"Why do you have to call the feds?"

"Louisiana will not let their own cops investigate each other, including corrections officers. There have been problems with that in the past, so to appear impartial, they call in big brother to do our jobs for us. It sucks."

Olivia looked up at her partner. "So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Well," Kinler huffed, "we get to sit on our butts until they send us an agent. Once we suspect department involvement we are on pause."

"How long does that usually take?"

"Two, three days tops. Don't fret though. Of all the prisons to be stuck at this is the best one. There is great food, a golf course, a lake for fishing. If we are here long enough we may even get to see the rodeo. It will give us a few days to get to know each other better. How's that sound?"

Olivia nodding her head responded, "That sounds good."


End file.
